


Prompt request ficlets Mar19 - Camus

by Tokei_B



Series: Prompt request ficlets Mar19 [4]
Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, any gender you like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 07:43:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18256814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokei_B/pseuds/Tokei_B
Summary: Collection of ficlets from a prompt request round for Ranmaru.List of promptshere.





	1. “Will you just hold still?”

Camus answered you with a hard stare.

“I have not moved an inch since you started,” he stated coldly, clearly annoyed at you thinking otherwise. “If there is any mistake to be found later it will not be because of lack of cooperation from me.”

You huffed, your hands still busy working on the tail of his coat. You were doing a last minute fix to his costume, having discovered that some of the sequins on it were falling off. Camus had attempted to take it off but the complicated arrangement of straps and buckles holding it together coupled with the fact that there was less than fifteen minutes to showtime made it easier for you to just kneel down behind him to work while he stood, arms crossed and glaring at anyone who dared to even look his way.

“Myu-chan, we’re going on in ten– What’s Y/N doing behind you?” Reiji’s eyes shone with mischief as he stuck his head around the break room door. “Ohoh! Is this a punishment game? Did I just see something that I shouldn’t have?”

“Kotobuki,” Camus gritted out, the beginnings of a cold wind swirling around him. “Be prepared to lose that tongue if–”

“I told you to hold still!”

“I am, fool!” he retorted, his attention briefly drawn back to you.

“Then what’s with the sudden whirlwind?” You tugged sharply at the waist of his coat. “Camus, I shall stick you in the behind with a needle if you don’t stop whatever you’re doing.”

It was a good thing for Reiji that Camus’s attention was diverted from him at the moment, because the look of absolute glee on his face at your threat would have been enough for Camus to ice him literally.

“You–” He spluttered with sheer outrage, his hair rising with the force of his rage. “You dare to threaten my posterior? The impudence–”

“It’s going to be more than a threat if I don’t get this done before you go on stage,” you replied, not looking up as your needle flashed quickly. “I just need one more minute…”

Camus was about to continue his tirade when he noticed the sweat beading your brow and your deep frown of concentration. Turning back without a word, he directed his ire towards Reiji instead.

“Your time would be better spent checking if Mikaze and Kurosaki are ready instead of gawking at me like an idiot. Must I always do your job for you?”

“Yessir! Nossir!” Reiji’s head disappeared briefly, only to reappear again. “Don’t give Y/N too hard a time now, Myu-chan. It’s rare to find someone you’re close enough with to stick a needle in your butt.”

And then he was gone again, a blizzard and Camus’s roar on his heels.

“Right, done!” You sat back on the ground in relief. Camus did a quick check in the mirror, giving a nod of satisfaction when he couldn’t tell where the original pattern ended and your patch up begun.

“This will do.”

A call of “Quartet Night on in five!” came from outside the door.

Bending over you still sitting on the ground, he roughly ran his gloved hands through your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

“Do not even think of leaving until I return,” he rumbled into your ear. “Your efforts shall be justly rewarded tonight.”

Your heart sped up as his fingers brushed against the shell of your ear. Then he was up and sweeping out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.


	2. “You think you could do better?”

Camus scoffed, his arms crossed as he eyed the quiz show you were watching with much scorn.

“The lowest page in the Silk Palace could answer these questions,” His tone made it clear that the questions being shown were not worthy of the pigeons, let alone the humans in his home country. “This is nothing compared to the literature we studied in Permafrost.”

“What is alektorophobia?” You pointed at the question being flashed on the television. 

“The fear of fowl, chickens to be exact,” Camus answered promptly, the contempt in his voice making you want to throw a cushion at him. “A ridiculous phobia to begin with.” The buzzer sounded with the right answer as if to confirm his words. “Oh? The fool got lucky. We shall see how long his luck will hold.”

Joining you and Alexander on the sofa, Camus went on to verbally lambaste all the contestants on the show you were watching while infuriatingly giving the correct answers to the questions being asked as it continued.

You were just about ready to turn the television off and leave the room in exasperation when the last question came on.

“What does outer space smell like?”

Camus’ glare could have burned a hole through the television screen.

“What sort of idiotic question is that?” he thundered. “The smell of space–”

He abruptly got up and almost immediately returned again, rapidly flipping through a thick encyclopedia in his hand, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. The spine of the book cracked audibly as his grip on it tightened.

“This infernal book does not help–”

Alexander suddenly gave three sharp barks right before the host revealed that the answer was indeed option number three. Both you and Camus turned to stare at Alexander, who gazed back at you, his tongue hanging out.

“How on earth would you know…”

Barking again, he leapt off the sofa and left the room, both of you still staring after him in stunned silence.


End file.
